Heavens to Betsy?
Last night, a routine dinner outing took an unexpected turn.
A week ago I agreed to go to dinner with a Chinese colleague of mine (ooh that sounds rather grown up… “colleague”) and a few other Shandong English teachers from around the neighborhood. I met five English teachers—two Chinese, three American-- on Shandong’s “old” campus and we made our way to a large seafood restaurant decked out with bright lights and Christmas trimmings.
In these types of restaurants, the first step is to spend some time in a section where you can view the raw material (tightly covered with plastic wrap) of each dish that’s offered. It’s all neatly displayed under bright lights on refrigerated shelves complete with tanks full of fish, frogs and some large bowls of lively scorpions. A waiter follows closely with pen and pad. You point, they record and a menu never enters the equation.
While this is a handy option for those of us who don’t speak the language, in my opinion platefuls of raw meat and wilting vegetables under fluorescent lights doesn’t a tummy rumble make.
We were seated upstairs to a private room called “Amsterdam”. At each place setting there was a small capsule of vinegar the size of your pinky that you puncture with a tiny straw to wet your whistle before the meal. The dishes began to arrive not long after we were seated; fish balls, shrimp and scallion pot stickers, fried fish pieces, beef and vegetables, and pile of chopped up taro root covered in melted sugar. When separating a bite size cluster of taro with your chopsticks, wisps of melted sugar stretch endlessly into the air. Cleverly a bowl of hot water is placed next to this dish and with a quick dip the sugar dissolves leaving no chance of having long sticky sugar whiskers dangling from your chin.
A half-hour into the meal, the conversation entered some unfamiliar territory for me—how each of us had accepted the Lord into our lives. Everyone told an uplifting story citing books, verses, and psalms. When it became obvious that it was my turn to contribute, my cheeks went a little red and I said that in fact I was not a Christian and I would rather listen if they didn’t mind. The conversation went on for hours. They spoke of starting a Bible Study group for their students, but all agreed that was a bad idea with the consideration that it is against the law. The two Chinese women asked the Americans a lot of questions about faith and “the truth”. They all remarked on how sad it was that young people these days believe there is no such thing as absolute truth. At one point, someone said something along the lines of art and literature not being truly great if they were contrary to “the truth”. A Chinese woman asked “How can I know if the author or artist has God in them?” I was surprised but tried not to let my eyebrows show it.
At one stage, I was given some suggestions of Christian singers who sing about people with doubts about Jesus.
After two hours of sipping tea, I went to the ladies room with my Chinese colleague who hosted the dinner. She told me she hoped I didn’t mind the conversation. I said I didn’t and that I liked to listen. Then she said “I brought you here tonight to hear this conversation. I hope you don’t mind my purpose”. In fact everyone but me had known what the “purpose” of the dinner was. “Oh…” I realized. That’s all I could come up with. I stared blankly at her unable to think of a response.
“Thank you”? “No thanks, not interested”?
On my walk home, I was a little puzzled. Why me? Don’t I seem happy enough?
A week ago I agreed to go to dinner with a Chinese colleague of mine (ooh that sounds rather grown up… “colleague”) and a few other Shandong English teachers from around the neighborhood. I met five English teachers—two Chinese, three American-- on Shandong’s “old” campus and we made our way to a large seafood restaurant decked out with bright lights and Christmas trimmings.
In these types of restaurants, the first step is to spend some time in a section where you can view the raw material (tightly covered with plastic wrap) of each dish that’s offered. It’s all neatly displayed under bright lights on refrigerated shelves complete with tanks full of fish, frogs and some large bowls of lively scorpions. A waiter follows closely with pen and pad. You point, they record and a menu never enters the equation.
While this is a handy option for those of us who don’t speak the language, in my opinion platefuls of raw meat and wilting vegetables under fluorescent lights doesn’t a tummy rumble make.
We were seated upstairs to a private room called “Amsterdam”. At each place setting there was a small capsule of vinegar the size of your pinky that you puncture with a tiny straw to wet your whistle before the meal. The dishes began to arrive not long after we were seated; fish balls, shrimp and scallion pot stickers, fried fish pieces, beef and vegetables, and pile of chopped up taro root covered in melted sugar. When separating a bite size cluster of taro with your chopsticks, wisps of melted sugar stretch endlessly into the air. Cleverly a bowl of hot water is placed next to this dish and with a quick dip the sugar dissolves leaving no chance of having long sticky sugar whiskers dangling from your chin.
A half-hour into the meal, the conversation entered some unfamiliar territory for me—how each of us had accepted the Lord into our lives. Everyone told an uplifting story citing books, verses, and psalms. When it became obvious that it was my turn to contribute, my cheeks went a little red and I said that in fact I was not a Christian and I would rather listen if they didn’t mind. The conversation went on for hours. They spoke of starting a Bible Study group for their students, but all agreed that was a bad idea with the consideration that it is against the law. The two Chinese women asked the Americans a lot of questions about faith and “the truth”. They all remarked on how sad it was that young people these days believe there is no such thing as absolute truth. At one point, someone said something along the lines of art and literature not being truly great if they were contrary to “the truth”. A Chinese woman asked “How can I know if the author or artist has God in them?” I was surprised but tried not to let my eyebrows show it.
At one stage, I was given some suggestions of Christian singers who sing about people with doubts about Jesus.
After two hours of sipping tea, I went to the ladies room with my Chinese colleague who hosted the dinner. She told me she hoped I didn’t mind the conversation. I said I didn’t and that I liked to listen. Then she said “I brought you here tonight to hear this conversation. I hope you don’t mind my purpose”. In fact everyone but me had known what the “purpose” of the dinner was. “Oh…” I realized. That’s all I could come up with. I stared blankly at her unable to think of a response.
“Thank you”? “No thanks, not interested”?
On my walk home, I was a little puzzled. Why me? Don’t I seem happy enough?
posted by B | 5:13 AM
2 Comments:
The first thing that jumped out at me about this story was, "They all remarked on how sad it was that young people these days believe there is no such thing as absolute truth." Sitting here in the United States one of the greatest fears I have is that there are far too many people running around absolutlely, positively, unshakably certain they do, in fact, know the "absolute truth" and that God has commanded them to impose it on the rest of the world.
The profound hubris of such thinking would be amusingly colloquial were it not becoming dangerously widespread. Oh yeah - and diverse.
The Christian "absolute truth" is obviously different from the Muslim "absolute truth" which is different from... and so on. You know, if everyone can have their own "personal relationship" with God then they can have their own "personal relationship" with reality, with the truth. The inadequacy of this belief is painfully evident watching current events.
The next thing that struck me was the fact that you were set up. "When you are in a room and you look around and you don't know who the patsy is - then the patsy is you." True in business, true in the world of foreign missionaries it seems.
Is it the case that the majority of people working off-shore like that are Christian missionaries? Certainly within their rights but not something that is going to be contradicting the impression of Americans as self-righteous, intollerant and imperious.
Your account of how you dealt with the situation is very good: listen, learn and blog! I'd be sure to ask about the intent of invitations from that group in the future. And I think you can be proud to present a contrary spiritual orientation. I for one would like the world to know America is not only Christian.
To all young people: a similar opportunity for extemporaneous expression will present itself when you are invited to a party which turns out to be a sales attack for a vacation or housewares club, or pyramid-like buying club. "Would you be interested if I told you could be independently wealthy, and be your own boss in less than two years?".....Its difficult to reply 'No, and your spinach dip is gross', but the consequence is that with each passing question it gets harder to extract oneself from the situation without being confrontational. Be ready, it will happen to you some day.
Post a Comment
<< Home